The Price of Revenge (The Bad Boys of Wall Street Book 1) by Ember Leigh

Author:Ember Leigh [Leigh, Ember]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CORA

It felt wrong to float up to my hotel room the way I did.

I was in the middle of a personal crisis. A complete unraveling of my life. I shouldn’t feel happy.

Yet I did. Axel had that way about him. He filled me up, even when he didn’t mean to. Maybe especially when he didn’t mean to.

And I was grateful for it. Because I wasn’t just running on E. My entire life was a wisp away from shuddering to a stop altogether. And here I was, floating up to my hotel room on the top floor of the Westin, on cloud nine.

I had a whole mess of a tangle ahead of me to sort out, but I felt secure for now. For the first time in a long time.

Someone out there supported me because he cared. Not because he was legally obligated to do so. Not because it would be bad press if he didn’t. Not because people would talk if he didn’t show the world a certain image.

The taupe-and-shadow floral pattern of the carpet carried me toward my room. I’d selected this hotel on a whim, the first place my rattled brain could think to go after I’d thrown my things together and left the condo Saturday night.

I was living with the bare bones now. I had some undies, a few dresses, lounge wear, work heels, and bathroom stuff. That was it. I was too scared to send for more, because I knew Eli would find out where I’d disappeared to if I sent someone. I’d opted for remote work this week as well. I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. Not Eli and not my father.

Eli hadn’t contacted me yet, but the onslaught was coming.

I fished my keycard out of my purse as I came up to room 1046. The door clicked softly, and I pushed it open, welcoming the sterile breeze that floated out. I appreciated the neutrality of this place. It wasn’t mine, but it certainly wasn’t his.

It was just a place to get my bearings. Until I could figure out the next step.

I hummed a nameless tune to myself, pushing into the hotel suite. My skin prickled, though I didn’t know why, like the electricity before a thunderstorm. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind me and I rounded the corner that I spotted the threat.

Eli was here. Draped over the chaise longue, one knee propped up, looking absolutely wrecked.

“About fucking time you got here,” he spat, sitting up. Today, he was every level of disheveled, from his hair to his clothes, as if he’d been tossing and turning for days and had forgotten where his closet was.

“Eli.” I swallowed, my tongue nearly sticking to the roof of my mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Just trying to find my fucking wife.” He balled his fists, resting his elbows on his knees. His caramel gaze was unsteady again. Shrouded. Even though it was barely four p.m., it looked like he was completely fucking drunk.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, but my voice came out a whisper.

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